Failure is Not Fatal
by TheSilverHunt3r
Summary: Isabella had failed. Fifteen of her children, ages five to eleven-Ray was twelve her mind whispered-had escaped. Manga spoilers.


Summary: Isabella had failed. Fifteen of her children, ages five to eleven-Ray was twelve her mind whispered-had escaped.

Isabella had failed. Fifteen of her children, ages five to eleven-Ray was twelve her mind whispered-had escaped. But that didn't matter right now. So she whispered to Phil that his older siblings had escaped and comforted the remainder of her children. The forest was dark and a bit cold, but she grabbed blankets for everyone and sang them to sleep.

She stared at the starry sky and thought of her children's futures.

She wished for her children's lives to be long. She wished that they would not be caught.

She wished that Don would learn to make better judgment. She wished that Gilda would gain some more confidence. She wished that the little ones with them could grow up, with a childhood a bit less idealistic then Gracefield, but one they would survive.

She knew Emma would look out for them. She hoped Emma would lean on them, that the rest would share the burden.

She wished Ray...would be able to read lots of books and learn to appreciate himself more. Perhaps a bit sentimental, but she was a mother, she was allowed to be.

She wished that Norman would find a way out of the Lambda plantation and back to his siblings. And, she knew not to doubt Norman's persistence and cleverness, it was likely he would. He had already beaten her once, she knew it was his help that allowed fifteen of her children to escape. She would not bet against him again.

...And for herself, she hoped she survived the fallout.

XXX

The Grandmother was furious. Of course, the old lady hid it well. But Isabella could read it in the slight downturn of her lips and the furrowing of her brow.

The most gut wrenching thing Isabella did in her life was lie to the face of the woman who raised her. How did her children escape? She had no idea. It was like they just teleported over the chasm between the wall and the forest.

The demons couldn't find the children's route outside, but had started following their tracks. They hadn't found any of the children yet, all of them had survived so far.

The punishment was obvious-death.

"You'll be stripped of your position as a Mama," the Grandmother decided.

Isabella almost stopped breathing. She clenched her jaw slightly. Was this a trick?

"What am I to do with you?" The older woman wondered. How was she to use Isabella's potential and also keep an eye on her? "I will be demoting you to an Elder Sister. You will be in charge of final training starting next week," she decided.

Isabella nodded. "If that is what you wish," she politely replied.

XXX

Day 1.

Usually the house held many sisters in training. The rule was you had to survive at least until age eighteen.

At sometime when there was females eighteen to twenty, there was a culling. This was called "final training". Usually, more then half of those qualifying for the higher level were eliminated from the program. The remaining would become Sisters.

Right now, there was five in that age category. Isabella swept her eyes over their files. The five recently were moved into a room. They would all be living together during the training.

Their files were extensive, as it was for all the girls who went through the program.

From plant one, was 75784, Ella. She acted very innocent all the time. However, her past rather ruined the idea of her being innocent. She had figured out her siblings were being killed when she was eleven and made a deal with her Mama for survival.

From Plant two was 72784, Abigail. Her mind was a bit fragile and she occasionally had panic attacks. The time she had seen one of her siblings die had traumatized her. However, she had managed to survive because of her prodigious ability to remember almost anything. She often talked with Natalie, her closest thing to a friend.

From plant three, was 09784, Clara. This was the only girl Isabella had chosen to be a Sister. (She had also chosen Emma, but Emma had rejected the idea, and so didn't count.) Clara was a bold girl, a risk taker with a blessing of luck. Her intelligence was proven to be close to Abigail's.

There were two from plant four. The more recent addition was the fiery 71784, named Natalie. She approached everything with a postive mindset and a vigor she seemed unable to contain. In physical tests, she seemed to beat everyone easily. The other girl from plant three was 77784, or Christine. She was far more mild then her younger sister, 71784. Actually, compared to most of her competitors Christine was timid, and preferred not to be around people. Her constant reading allowed her to keep up with her peers.

The five young women stood at attention when she walked into their room. Their backs were straight and their hands were folded neatly behind them.

"I am Isabella. From today on, I will be your Elder Sister." She smiled pleasantly. "How are you all settling in."

After a sideways look at each other, one of them took initiative. "We're all settling in very well, Elder Sister Isabella. The room is very nice. Thank you for asking," Natalie cheerfully replied. She had a big grin on her face.

"I'm glad to hear it." Isabella tilted her head slightly as she gave a closed eyed smile. "Now, you all get to have your first test. Follow me please."

They were a bit like ducklings, trailing after their teacher through the hallways. The younger girls watched them from a distance.

The testing room was sunny. Each girl picked a desk. Isabella sat down and started the test. Natalie and Christine seemed to struggle the most. Ella looked almost bored. Clara and Abigail had twin looks of determination on their faces.

"And, stop."

Isabella looked over the results briefly. She folded the price of paper and put it in her pocket.

They went back to the room. She pinned a sheet onto the cork board."These were your scores," she revealed. She gave them a smile over her shoulder as she left. "I'll leave you all to bond."

XXX

Day 11.

Isabella strolled around the room. She was rocking one of the more active babies to sleep as she helped her students. She quietly corrected Christine's hold on a child, the girl obediently followed the change in position. She showed Clara a good way to get a baby to fall asleep. Natalie entertained a curious eleven month old child after feeding her. Abigail was a natural, shushing a crying baby that had recently been born.

XXX

Day 24.

This was the eighteenth physical test. It was a simple race. Natalie seemed to be an unstoppable force, easily sweeping past the others. Ella tricked her way to second place, even tripping Abigail in order to do so. Clara stopped to help Abigail and pulled her friend along with her. Christine was last, the slowest member of the group.

Natalie encouraged Clara and Abigail, after glaring at Ella. Christine also received a smile from the exuberant girl.

Ella suppressed a smirk, only presenting an innocent facade. She looked questioningly at Natalie, as if to ask, 'what is the look for?' As if she didn't fully know why.

Isabella gave the times of each. She kept a smile on her face as she watched them interact.

XXX

Day 39.

Today, Isabella watched the physical test of her students from a distance. She hid near the second to last objective. This time, it was once again a free for all. But instead of a simple race, it was a scavenger hunt.

She had predicted the split in the group. She watched them from a branch, a clipboard in hand.

Ella had started turning on her peers far too early. The girl had forgotten that she wasn't dealing with children, she was dealing with equals. In return for the hints of betrayal throughout the past two months, Abigail, Natalie, and Clara turned on her.

Outnumbered, Ella was forced to give up all of her items. The three all passed simultaneously. Christine came in fourth. Ella failed.

Isabella followed protocol.

The five young women lined up at the front of the classroom. They were quiet. They all knew exactly what they had done. Ella had willingly ostracized herself by openly screwing over her peers. Abigail, Clara, and Natalie decided to get revenge.Christine had simply watched, not willing to intervene.

It was a bit different then when they were younger kids just trying to score high enough to not be terminated. It was more personal, more visceral. It was them purposefully, deliberating causing someone to fail. And here, failure was lethal.

"Due to failing a test, the first person eliminated will be 75784," Isabella announced. Her voice was pleasant, but her words were anything but warm. She kept her eyes on Ella, ready to restrain her if the girl decided to run.

Ella was pale. She held her head high. She ignored the glances from her peers as she walked out of the room, to her death.

After a glance at her remaining students, Isabella closed the door behind her. As an Elder Sister, she was to escort Ella.

XXX

Day 47.

It was a warm day. Warm and sunny enough that after the training for the day was completed, Isabella had headed outside to the forest. She had borrowed a book from the library and found a small grassy hill to read on. After finishingthe book, she headed back.

She stuck to the shadows of the tree by the main road. The wind was slightly chilly.

On way back she ran intoa blond man in a white coat. He had a pleasant smile on his face. "Hello, I'm from the Lambda plantation. You are Isabella?"

"Yes, I am," Isabella confirmed. "Mr...?"

He made a casual gesture with his hand. "Please, call me Smee. Everyone does."

Isabella gave a close eyed smile. She had suspicions, but she would play along. There was no reason to bring suspicions, act rude, or ruin a chance of gathering information. "Alright Mr. Smee. For what reason are you here?"

"I'm in Gracefield for...general business," he vaguely answered. "But, it is fortunate I ran into you. I heard that the testing for the new Sisters had yet to be completed. One of my colleagues was invested in obtaining an adult or teenage female for experimentation."

"It is possible, Mr Smee." Isabella inclined her head. "But I can not give any definite answer."

Smee's smile widened slightly. "Please, don't feel any pressure Miss Isabella. This is a suggestion. I just wanted to throw the idea on the table for what to do with the dropout." He paused. "You were the one who raised 22194, correct?"

"Yes." Isabella smiled even as she clenched a hand behind her back.

"I'm one of the ones in charge of him. He scores perfectly on each one we give him, even though we keep increasing the difficulty. I must give my congratulations to you for raising him so well," Smee praised.

Isabella managed to smile somewhat more genuinely, although it didn't make a visible difference on the outside. There was no problem. Norman was fine and keeping up well; He was smart, he wouldn't talk about his siblings. They all were in the clear. "His intelligence is his own," she modestly deflected.

"I'd assume that as well. But I looked at the statistics among all of the plantations. You raised the best children by far. It's a shame almost half of your stock last year disappeared. I would have loved to study more of them as the rest seemed to be capable of magic. They can leap over chasms with some supernatural ability and don't leave a trace behind of how they did it."

"Mister Smee, would you explain what you're implying?" Isabella calmly asked. Her purple eyes were narrowed dangerously.

A slight bite of sarcasm entered Smee's tone, but he kept his voice low. "Well,I find it unlikely that you, the prodigious caretaker of your generation, didn't notice fifteen children were preparing to face the dangers of the outside.I find it odd that it seems to be fifteen children managed to sprout wings overnight. I find it curious that Norman didn't have any reaction except for slight fear the 'first time' he supposedly saw a demon."

"Those are interesting thoughts," Isabella commented. "What are you going to do about your suspicions?" Her fingers dug into the palm of her hand, the only display of her tension.

Smee's smile turned into a smirk. He withdrew a pen and paper from his coat pocket. He casually extended them towards her, as if she needed to write something down and he was helping her out.It was a checkered pen, black and white with the initials W. M. at the end.Smee leaned forward slightly and whispered, "Welcome to the rebellion, Miss Isabella."

It could be a trick. It could be a trap set up by the Grandmother. She stared at him for a few seconds. Deny everything or risk blatant exposure in the hope he wasn't lying.

She made her choice.

Her fingers closed stiffly around the paper and pen. "Thank you." Isabella faked writing something down as there was no inl in the pen, then slipped the page and pen into her pocket. She held onto the pen, there was important about it. It was a symbol or practical for something other then writing. Perhaps passing messages among the rebellion? Or a clue to some safe meeting place?

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on 22194 for you. Till the next time." He smiled as he cooly walked past her towards the Gatehouse and the Bridge.

XXX

She inspected it in her room. Isabella turned it around. She held it in two hands and twisted. B06-32 was written in small black letters on the inside tube. She gently twisted it again, pulling the tube most of the way out.

The display of light was a bit of a shock. B00-00 it said. There was a symbol, a barn owl. A very familiar barn owl in a circle. It was the stamp in the library books. The ones given by William Minerva.

Isabella screwed the pen together and looked at the end. W.M. William Minerva?

If so, that meant the rebellion had at one point managed to infiltrate Gracefield. The books had been there for years, as long as Isabella could remember. At least twenty five years from her oldest memory of reading in the library as a child, likely more then that.

Isabella kept the pen on her. If someone loyal to the demons got their hands on this, it was likely things would be bad.

XXX

Day 60.

Isabella had her own memories of her graduation day. None of them were fond. It was a painful day.

"My congratulations to all of you. This is the last day of your training."

"What are we doing for our last day, Elder Sister?" Abigail politely asked.

"There will be a test," Isabella calmly explained. "Follow me."

Each student chose a desk. They had gotten used to Ella being gone already. There were no stray glances towards the place she usually sat.

"Is this a regular test?" Natalie piped up after her teacher did not explain the situation further. She was skeptical, as were the rest, that this was a normal testing day.

Isabella smiled. Her students weren't dumb, they had likely wondered what the end of their time in training would be like since they started. A regular test would not have been among the predictions. "No," she admitted. "The person who gets three questions wrong first, loses."

The atmosphere of the room immediately changed. Already, there were predictions of each student's chances of survival by each one. Abigail and Clara would likely do fine, all of them knew. Which meant it was between Natalie and Christine, the two who consistently scored the lowest among them.

Isabella pulled out her pocket watch to record the time. She worked on reading through documents about Gracefield's production rate, quality, price, etc. She also checked up on the files of her precious children, the ones that had been left behind. All of them were doing well.

It only took two hours and sixteen minutes for Natalie to make two mistakes. Christine had only made one. But Natalie didn't give up, that was not her nature. She pressed on, giving her all with a challenging smile on her face.

Christine made her second mistake.

Abigail shot a worried look at the two and suffered her first mistake by running out of time to answer a question. It seemed even this place hadn't managed to put a dent in the genuine concern she had for all her friends.

Clara took a breath and carried on. She was afraid to stop, she knew how easy it would be to fail now. She knew how easy she could lose her life and she would keep herself focused so she would not. Stay calm, survive.

Christine stared bleakly at her desk's screen. She blinked. There was a buzz, announcing her failure. The test ended. She started to cry.

Isabella got up and walked over to her sobbing student. "Come here," she reassured and brought her student into a hug.

Christine started weeping tears on her teacher's shoulder. The black fabric absorbed the water without a visible trace.

Isabella ran her fingers comfortingly through her student's curly black hair.

The other students were in varying states. Abigail looked concerned. Clara was frowning slightly. Natalie stared at the ground, the thought of her being guilty of causing Christine's death running through her head on loop.

After three minutes of sobbing into Isabella's arms, Christine was ready to leave. She gave brief, quiet goodbyes to her peers with red eyes from crying and the appearance of being about to break down and cry again.

"I will be back soon, girls," Isabella promised. She entered the hallway.

Christine kept her face straight as she walked through the halls. Not disgracing her peers was the least she could do for them and herself at this point.

"Do you want a chance at living, my dear?" Isabella questioned. She was baiting her student, giving her hope.

"What?" Christine asked, her voice was hoarse from her wailing.

"Would you like to die or be used as a subject for experimentation?" Isabella explained.

"I have a choice?"

"I am giving you one, yes." Isabella smiled. It was a choice she hadn't given Norman. She hadn't needed to, he always wanted to live.

Christine stopped walking and waited for Isabella to look at her. "Thank you," she sincerely, warmly said. "Thank you for the offer. Thank you for teaching me. But, I'm afraid I will have to reject the idea. I am afraid of what would happen to me."

Isabella nodded slowly. "Understandable," she calmly reassured her student. Except she knew something else, there would inevitably be a jail break pullled off by Norman and Smee. It was possible Christine would be able to survive. But, Isabella couldn't say that. She couldn't risk Christine telling and being sold out to the demons.She couldn't risk someone else overhearing. Her good reputation had mostly shattered by her escapee children.

She returned to the testing room. Christine was not by her side. And now, the room did feel more empty. Unlike with Ella's disappearance and even with how Christine barely talked, they knew someone was missing.Isabella brushed aside the feeling with ease. She had far too much practice doing that. "Congratulations, Clara, Abigail, and Natalie. You have passed, you will all become Sisters.I hope you have taken my lessons to heart."

XXX

Isabella kept her eyes straight on the Grandmother. She was fully on alert, standing straight backed and with a fake smile.

The older woman was sitting in a small cushioned chair. She was relaxed. Her eyes were sharp as she slowly sipped her tea and read over the report in front of her. "You have done well with the newest batch of Sister's training," she complimented.

The Grandmother raised her eyes to meet Isabella's. She calmly, gently informed, "You will be my personal assistant."

Isabella's eyes narrowed for a moment, already starting to think over the changes in her future. She gave a close eyed smile and graciously accepted the new position. "As you wish, Grandmother. Thank you for the privilege you have given me."

XXX

Isabella contemplated her new position. Going from a teacher to personal assistant was a large leap in status. Her duties would be more time consuming.

A personal assistant of the Grandmother was rare. Likely because

1) Be a Mama or be the Personal Assistant.

2) When the Grandmother dies, the Mamas and Personal Assistant will vote on who becomes the next Grandmother.

B) If the Grandmother dies of unnatural causes, the Personal Assistant will be assumed to have managed to usurp the Grandmother and automatically be given the position.

Because of that last part, most Grandmothers went without PAs or chose the most trustworthy person they knew. Some, like the current Grandmother chose the most ambitious person, in order to keep an eye on them. It was risky however, since that increased the chance of their death.

With the current situation, the Mamas would assume Isabella was highly trusted. That she had proven herself and atoned for the mistake of a mass escape. The Grandmother was not known for being kind or sympathetic.

She would need to plan carefully. Especially if she wanted to become the Grandmother.

If a Grandmother survived an assassination attempt, the microchip in the Personal Assistant was immediately triggered.

XXX

A Personal Assistant was on the same level as a Mama. She answered only to the Grandmother and helped run Headquarters. She had many duties because of this.

A week in to her new job, she was checking over the baby production facility.

In one of the rooms Isabella passed, a Sister was giving birth. She screamed in pain, but the delivery room walls were soundproofed.

She watched Sisters dress the babies. A few of the kinder ones played with them briefly before putting them back.

She walked down the row of babies clothed in white and in white plastic cradles. They were all adorable. They were all innocent and unaware of the horrors of the world they were born into.

She remembered meeting Norman and Emma here for first time, when she was putting Ray to bed. Isabella had liked the way Emma had smiled at her-a gummy smile, as her teeth hadn't grown in yet-and how Norman watched her with soft, kind eyes.

When Isabella passed by the delivery rooms again, the new mother was holding her babies. The Sister had given birth to twins, one had a tuff of blond hair like his mother.

Isabella closed her eyes briefly. She still remembered the day Ray was born in one of the delivery rooms.

She frowned as she opened her eyes. Focus. She was here for work. She shoved her nostalgia away and pasted asmall smile on her face.

XXX

Today was the second shipment day for Headquarters of the month. It was not a shipment of the children from the plants, but a shipment of clothes, food, books, and other things from the human world.

She was the person who ordered the stuff, made sure everything would be kept in the right place, and decided what each House in the Gracefield plantation would get.

XXX

She wanted to know how to turn off her microchip. Just in case she ever had to run.

She started off by working out what she knew for certain. The microchips were implanted in the heart of all Mamas and Sisters. When triggered by moving outside of a designated area or by some unknown device, they destroyed the heart and caused internal bleeding.

When triggered manually? How were they triggered? Some sort of signal-radio waves. There must be some device used to do it. Someone in HeadQuarters must have access it.

Who triggered it manually?The one person that should have access is the Grandmother. In fact, it was commonly known that the person who decided whether Sisters and Mamas died was the Grandmother. She was the person in charge of all of them.

XXX

It was with a bit of pride that Isabella listened to the rumors spreading around.

Abigail had become a Mama a bit over a year into her career as a Sister. Natalie, one of her trusted friends from training, was almost immediately brought on as her helper.

Although Abigail was close, Isabella still held the title of youngest Mama.

As for her other trainee, Clara, the girl had recently landed at plantation one. She was working her way into Mama Bella's good graces.

XXX

Close to a year and a half since the children had escaped, the Lambda plantation went silent. Isabella almost laughed when she heard about it. She had to hide her smirk behind a hand and falsely widen her eyes a bit so she would look shocked.

She predicted that Norman would find Emma and Ray sometime soon.

XXX

The Grandmother had left the nightly report to her.

Abigail, the Mama of the fourth plant had opened up a different radio channel to talk to Isabella after the default check in. "The leader of the squad sent by the Ratri, Andrew, took one of my children aside. It was 34394, Phil. Personal Assistant Isabella, do you have any idea of why?" Abigail politely asked.

Unseen by Abigail, Isabella had allowed her face to adopt a scowl. The Ratri family were poking around? Was it possible they were going after the escapees personally now?

"No, I don't know. He was likely wanting trying to find something about the escapees. Was the merchandise was significantly affected?"

"34394 seemed scared. Andrew tried to intimidate him, but he only cried and ran to me."

"Good. I suggest giving him some special attention. It wouldn't do to have a future perfect scorer catch on to something suspicious going on," Isabella calmly warned. Of course, she knew that Phil already knew. It was up to Phil's acting skills to keep himself from being shipped.

XXX

It was time to check on the quality of Gracefield's children, both the recent shipments and the future ones.

This past year there had been several lower quality. But if the higher quality grades-two elevens, one twelve, and three nines.

As for promising children in the next few years. There was the six year old Phil and one of his five year old siblings, plus three other children spread among the plants.

Isabella's leftover children had been doing well, most above average for their ages. Any of them had yet to be shipped. But the first one would likely happen in...about eight months.

She smiled. Emma and the others had taken great care to leave only the four year old children and younger.

Those who knew about the incident figured the escapees had left those who would be a burden. Which was true. But those on the outside of plantation three didn't expand the idea of what left behind children meant. They didn't know how big Emma's heart was and that intial plan was taking them all.

Emma and the rest would be back.

Isabella needed to prepare and plan.

XXX

There were a great many poisonous things in the world.Isabella thought the Grandmother was poisonous, an insidious poison. The fear of the old lady slowly invaded your veins as you spent time around her.

It was why Isabella thought her plan for getting rid of the Grandmother was ironic.

She didn't 'plan' to be in the kitchen earlier in her schedule. But she was because of a 'shipment mistake' she had manufactured herself. The excuse gave her enough time to check over the food and slip dried cut up Deadly Nightshade leaves into the bags of Grandmother's personal favorite tea, a strong black tea brand specially imported for her.

Deadly Nightshade acted slowly, often taking hours or days to kill it's consumer. It caused delirium and paralysis. Along with blurred vision, dry mouth, hallucinations, loud heart beats (audible several feet away), aggressive behaviour, convulsions, comas, and possibly death.

With luck, the Grandmother would drink her tea as usual before bed. By tomorrow, the effects would start showing up.

XXX

The next morning, Grandmother had called her into her room. She was sitting in an armchair, a cup of tea in front of her. She stared blearily at Isabella. "Sit," she ordered, her voice even and tired.

Isabella said nothing, sitting in the other armchair.

The Grandmother shook slightly. Her hands clenched tight onto the armchair. She stared at the wall for a minute.

Isabella adopted a look of concern. She furrowed her eyebrows and frowned.

"Isabella," the older woman said in an authoritative voice. She coughed, her throat was dry.

"Yes, Grandmother?" Isabella politely replied.

"I have let my guard down too much in the past three months. Allowed you too much control of Headquarters. It was my mistake, and you took advantage of it," the Grandmother calmly accused.

Isabella widened her eyes in confusion. "I am afraid I don't understand," she replied, an open denial. Grandmother was baiting her, trying to draw her out and prey in her confidence.

The Grandmother smiled. It reached her eyes, it was a sincere smile tinged with bitterness. "Well done." She had lost, but she had expected it. It was inevitable. Success was not final.

"Grandmother?" Isabella questioned in confusion.

The older woman pulled two things out of her pocket. One was a pill in a bag, the other was a small device with a keypad. She looked at Isabella, her gaze sharp. "Use this to turn off your microchip, put in your number and the password, 16274. If you want to trigger a microchip, put in their number and 732." She put the device in the small table between them.

Isabella watched the Grandmother with confusion. She had not expected the confrontation to go this way. She made no move to reach for the controller.

The older woman noticed. "You don't need to believe me. Do what you will." She plucked the pill from the bag. With a wry smile she wished the woman she had raised, "Good luck with your plans," and dry swallowed the pill. After another convulsion, her eyes closed and her breathing slowly lessened. Her head flopped back against the chair's cushion. After another minute, she was dead.

Isabella dragged the device over to her. The black device was rectangular and it's keypad was white. After a moment of hesitation and doubt, she followed the Grandmother's instructions. 'Deactivated' appeared at the top of the screen. A self satisfied smile spread over her lips. She put the device in her pocket and got up. "Thank you for your cooperation," she replied to the older woman and put a hand over her heart.

Isabella picked up the tea cup, considering the cold black liquid, briefly considering poisoning herself. Or, finding another to take herself out. Her children were fine, they could take care of themselves and the rebels were here. But then the door opened and she saw the image reflected the metal lamp in the table, of white, black, and reddish-orange blurs. She put down the cup and turned to meet them.

XXX

The three teenagers took in the room-the lavish red carpet, antique wooden furniture, and the two other people in the room. One of the women was slumped in a chair, her silver hair in an elegant updo.

The other woman had their back to them, dressed simply in a black dress and white apron. She turned around and three teenagers stared. "Hello children," Isabella greeted, her tone both warm and world-weary.

Emma was confused and concerned.

Ray was tense. His face ran from one emotion to another, he settled on a frown.

Norman was surprised. He had likely thought her dead. His eyes were analytical. His brain was probably in midst of discarding plans, making new strategies, and predicting her actions.

"You have grown," she murmured. A slight smile was on her face as she thought out loud, "You boys are rather close in height. I wonder who will end up taller?"

Emma pouted at the comment. "Mama, what about me?" She instinctively replied in complaint. She always was sensitive about appearing like a child.

Both Norman and Isabella laughed. They were harmonious, pleasant sounds. They seemed to light up the area, breaking the staring match between the trio and their adopted mother.

The sounds faded away and the tension returned. The dim light and dead body did not allow for such a light hearted tone.

Isabella studied her children closer. They were different, but the same. The most noticeable was the increase in height-Norman and Ray more so then Emma-and clothing. Norman was dressed more formally, in a slightly too large tan vest and dress pants. Combat boots peeked from under his pant sleeves. Juxtaposed against him, Emma and Ray wore completely practical outfits. With waterproof coats, boots, and shirts and pants made of a more rugged fabric then Norman's.

There were smaller changes: The small braid in Emma's hair, orange hair that had grown more wild over the past two years from lack of a hair cut. The single black glove on Ray's right hand was a new addition, either a sentimental piece, or meant to cover something secret up. The bags under Norman's eyes were darker, but his sapphire blue eyes were stable and sharper then ever.

In return, they studied her. To them, she looked like nothing had changed. She had a smile on her face and a vague look in her crinkled eyes. But they didn't believe she was happy or at ease, they knew from experience that Mama was able to completely mask her true emotions from them if she wished.

"Who is she? What did you do?" Emma boldly questioned. Her eyes were fixed on the body of the older woman in the chair.

"She was the Grandmother, right?" Ray drawled. He had a knowing look on his face and his shoulders were still squared in preparation to fight.

Isabella studied the blank expressions that had stubbornly glued themselves onto the young faces. She nodded. "She was," she confirmed.

Norman's eyes had drifted from Isabella, to the Grandmother, to the cup of tea. "You poisoned her," he said, as if it was an ironic turn of event. Which it was, considering that Norman and Ray had entertained the idea of poisoning Isabella when planning for their escape.

Isabella merely continued to smile. There was a slight bit of ice in her eyes. She moved on to a different topic. "You've asked your questions, it's only fair that I get to do the same," she calmly reasoned. "What do you plan to do, run or fight?"

Ray stayed silent, his eyes sliding between his two friends.

"Fight," Norman boldy declared in a challenging voice. He stared her down, eyes hard as steel. Viciousness had bled into him, likely because of his time seperated from his friends and stuck in the Lambda plantation.

"Or find a third option," Emma quietly voiced. "At least fight until we can figure out some way for demons not have to live off humans for their survival."

Norman and Ray nodded slightly at Emma's addition. They didn't fully believe that there was a third option out there, but they was willing to search for it. The less bloodshed the better.

Isabella hummed. "And what do you plan to do with the staff?"

Norman bit his lip.

Ray clenched his jaw and looked away.

Emma frowned at looked at her friends, "What? We already decided-"

Isabella chuckled slightly. What would she do in their position? What else could she really do in their position but that? "I see. Did you figure that activating the staff's microchips was the best way to wipe out the enemy, Norman, Ray?"

"You're wrong," Emma immediately spat out. "We're going to let you all go. There's enough of you that if you stick together you won't-" She stopped. She turned to her friends, noticing they hadn't defended themselves. "Norman? Ray?" She whispered, feeling betrayed.

Norman closed his eyes briefly. A flicker of regret ran across his face, he quickly masked it. "It was a possibility," he quietly admitted.

Ray looked the most openly guilty. He shifted his gaze around, refusing to look at Emma.

Emma clenched her fists and glared at them. "You...How could you two even consider..." She said, her face dark with rage. She hated things being kept from her. She hated her friends going around her because they knew she wouldn't agree. She hated them sacrificing other people.

All of them were different with different ideas and ways of doing things. Different ideas of what they would allow themselves to do. There were fractures among the trio, there always were. They had disagreements and made mistakes, but they cared too much to cut each other off. They always found a way to reconcile...it would just take a awhile. Isabella knew all of this, she had raised them after all.

"Let me propose another route." Isabella cut through the argument that was brewing. Her voice reminded her children that she was still present. "I am the new Grandmother of Gracefield. The staff will follow my orders."

Norman lowered his chin slightly. His gaze was calculating once again. "You're saying you want to be allies?" It made sense for them, less for her. It wasn't like Norman or Ray could kill her with Emma right here.

Isabella gave a pleasant smile. It was a familiar sight to the children, that simultaneously chilled and comforted them. She pulled something out of her pocket. She unfurled her fingers around the object, revealing the checkered pen of the rebellion. "You could say we already are."

A/N

If you haven't gotten it by now, the title is a lie. Most of the story is overtly about how failing means dying in this world. Also it's a direct reference to Churchill's famous quote "Success is not final. Failure is not fatal. It is the courage to continue that counts."

I wondered what happened to Isabella after the Escape arc. This happened as result.

Traitor/Rebel Isabella is an interesting idea. I'd even argue it's somewhat canon, since Isabella covered for the kids at the end there.

Smee was fun to write. Trying to figure out how to characterize him was hard, because he literally never says a line. But I think he turned out alright.

Deadly Nightshade information from Planet Deadly's article 10 most poisonous plants in the world.

I might be writing a continuation...but it may or may not get finished. Review/comment if you want a sequel for the Rebel Isabella universe.

-Silver


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